


Kissing Ace

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys Are Dumb, Kissing for no goddamn reason, M/M, Tickling, don't look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 09:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3724177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happens right after training camp. </p>
<p>Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way. <br/>But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing Ace

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for mysecretfanmoments' 30 Day Kagehina Challenge Day 10: sensitive spot.

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

 

Even after camp, everyone is still talking about the wrestling match between Bokuto and Sawamura from Karasuno on that last day after the barbecue. Konoha swears up and down that Bokuto kicked Sawamura’s ass, and Kuroo merely laughs at the idea of calling having one’s head trapped between vice-like thighs a win.

Kenma thinks all of them are idiots. Akaashi can’t help but agree, but judging by Bokuto’s relative silence on the matter, it hints that perhaps Bokuto isn’t as certain about his victory as his fellow third-year.

Of course, everyone asks Akaashi about who he thinks won, but he refuses to humor this ridiculous debate. Partly because he can’t possibly care either way, partly because he doesn’t want Bokuto’s ego to be bruised.

But the subject comes up when Akaashi is helping Bokuto with calculus almost a week after the fact. They have been toiling for two hours without irrelevant conversation, which only causes Akaashi to wonder when Bokuto would crack and bubble over with any and every subject that is not mathematics.

“Akaashi, how many squats do you think Sawamura does every day to have thighs like those?”

And there it is.

Akaashi rolls his eyes. “I’m not even going to answer that, Bokuto-san. Sawamura-san’s thighs are not, nor will they ever be, my business.”

Bokuto pouts at him. “So you’re not going to defend my honor?”

 “You’re a big boy,” Akaashi says flatly as he tucks his books away, seeing that there is likely no hope of any further progress in their studies. “Defend it yourself.”

Bouncing out of his chair, Bokuto points a thumb at his chest. “Well, _this_ big boy is going to do a hundred squats a day until I can crush a watermelon with my thighs like that one chick on YouTube.”

Rubbing his eyes, Akaashi grumbles, “Please tell me that wasn’t what you were doing this past week instead of studying for your exams?”

“Not _all_ week,” Bokuto replies, pretending to be offended. “Just a couple of hours here and there. I just wanted to make sure Sawamura wasn’t, you know . . . cheating by hiding some sort of freakish training regimen.”

Akaashi checks over the few problems that Bokuto had managed to complete. Chewing on his pen, he remarks, “Being in better shape than you isn’t cheating, Bokuto-san. It’s called dedication and drive.”

“Hey!” Bokuto whines as Akaashi splays red pen all over his sheet. “I didn’t miss that many.”

“Maybe if you concentrated on learning the work instead of obsessing over another guy’s thighs, these would be correct and we would be done for the night.”

Bokuto blinks at Akaashi’s words before the implication the latter’s unintentional implication sinks in. Akaashi is reddening as he watches Bokuto chew on his lip. “That was harsh, Bokuto-san. I’m sorry.”

Seemingly missing or ignoring Akaashi’s apology, Bokuto shuffles his feet and stares at the floor. “Is it really that gross? I just think . . . legs are really cool?”

Akaashi can almost smell the shift in Bokuto’s mood and decides to avert a problem before it starts. “No, there isn’t anything wrong with it. There are just some things you should keep to yourself. Besides, I think Sawamura and his thighs are spoken for.”

Eyes wide, Bokuto’s head whips around to gape at Akaashi. “Who? Anyone we know?”

“Karasuno’s vice captain. The mastermind behind their synchronized attack.”

“I thought they were just bros,” Bokuto muses aloud. “Like me and Kuroo.”

“You and Kuroo don’t neck in the hot tub.” Akaashi sees Bokuto shift uncomfortably. “You’re kidding, right?”

Bokuto buries his face in his hands. “It was one time!” he cries. “I just wondered what it was like to kiss another dude, and Kuroo’s a cool guy like that.”

More interested than he cares to admit, Akaashi asks, “So, what was it like?”

“What, kissing Kuroo? Well, he does this thing with his tongue —”

Akaashi fears he will never recover from that mental image as he cries, “Too much information, Bokuto-san!” Bokuto smirks, and Akaashi is sure his captain did that on purpose. Fighting the urge to gouge out his mind’s eye with his pen, Akaashi chooses to delve further into this madness by reiterating, “What was kissing like, Bokuto-san?”

Genuine surprise on his face, Bokuto looks at Akaashi like he is a stranger. “You mean you’ve never kissed anyone before?”

Cheeks pinkening, Akaashi shakes his head. “It never came up. I get confessions here and there, but no one I’ve ever been interested in. I'm not going to make out with some random person just to figure it out; I want it to be someone I like.”

“It’s the best!” Bokuto beams at Akaashi. “Kissing is like . . . that feeling you get when you do something that matters to you just exactly right. Like when I see the toss clearly and beat the block, or a service-ace on a match point.”

Akaashi looks at Bokuto dubiously. “Sorry, Bokuto-san. I’m not quite as sexually attracted to volleyball as you are, but I’ll take your word for it.”

Bokuto bursts into laughter. “They should make a movie about that. A guy falling in love with volleyball.”

“I think the Americans beat you to it,” Akaashi remarks, almost in disbelief that he is even engaging in this ridiculous exchange. “Over a decade ago, I think.”

“Aww, man!” Bokuto juts out his lower lip, but his expression brightens quickly. “Hey, do you wanna try it?”

The comment catches Akaashi by surprise, as he has only been humoring Bokuto about amorous volleyballs out of reflex. “Try what?”

 “Kissing!” Bokuto blurts, but as soon as he does, he melts into an almost sheepish posture Akaashi hadn’t even known he possessed. “I mean, I’ve done it a few times, so I’m probably pretty good at it, and your first kiss should be . . .”

Bokuto doesn’t finish, but Akaashi knows what he had been about to say. “Someone who cares about you.” Giving Bokuto a tremulous smile, Akaashi says honestly, “That’s really sweet, Bokuto-san.”

Instantly lighting up, Bokuto asks, “So, does that mean you want to? I bet you’d be great at it.”

Akaashi considers this. He isn’t averse to the idea of kissing a guy, or to kissing Bokuto in particular, but he is wary of crossing some invisible threshold and damaging their relationship both on and off the court. Yet as he watches Bokuto wag his eyebrows in that wheedling way and recalls the earnestness of the offer, Akaashi’s better sense is punted off his shoulder by the wicked little devil on the other. “Fine.”

Bokuto pumps his fists. “You’re gonna love this!” He rushes over to stand in front of Akaashi. “Now, you should start with a good stance. Something cute, but practical.” Scratching his chin, Akaashi sees Bokuto mentally cataloguing things that are ‘cute’ and wonders just how many tangents he reaches before he says, “So, you put your arms around my neck, and I’ll put mine around your waist.”

The protest on Akaashi’s lips peters out into a yelp when Bokuto reaches out and yanks Akaashi to his chest. He desperately wants to wriggle out of this situation before Bokuto inadvertently discovers his secret, but Bokuto’s arms are like vices and, he does admit, they feel nice there.

With a weary sigh, Akaashi loops his arms around Bokuto’s neck as he was bid and instantly understands why this pose was chosen. When they’re like this, there is almost no way to be distracted or to look away. Bokuto’s shining amber eyes draw him in, and almost instinctively, Akaashi’s eyes flutter closed and his lips part.

Akaashi doesn’t hate admitting that he’s wrong about Bokuto’s description of the sensation of kissing. It does feel like he’s won something great when Bokuto’s mouth drops down onto his, and their lips fit together like puzzle pieces. Akaashi’s belly burns with an unfamiliar and unpleasantly-pleasant feeling, awed that Bokuto is the one who was able to put it there.

After a few seconds, Akaashi expects them to drift apart and for the moment to end, but they don’t. Instead, Akaashi’s fingers plow through Bokuto’s firmly gelled hair, the prickling of stiff locks causing his hands to tingle alongside the euphoria teeming in his gut. A moan seeps out of his mouth without permission, and this is finally what springs them apart.

“Wow,” Bokuto says with his mouth hanging open. “You’re even better at it than Kuroo, and he’s kissed a _lot_ of people.”

“Thank you,” Akaashi says dumbly, not sure if he trusts himself to say something more intelligent. Or not to beg for another round, because he finds that this is what his brain is fixated on the most.

Bokuto ruffles Akaashi’s hair and says, “That was amazing. Let me know if you ever want to do that again.”

Akaashi’s knees quake at the very idea, and a quiet, “Yes,” pops out of his weak-willed mouth.

Brows shooting up, Bokuto blinks. “Really. Already?” His grin is almost too bright to look at. “I must be good.”

The answer Akaashi doesn’t deign to give to that remark is rendered inert when Bokuto launches into the next kiss before either of them can even take a full breath. This time, there is no hesitation or carefully selected movement; it is edged with something a little fiercer, something more _Bokuto_.

Akaashi doesn’t even hear himself moan into Bokuto’s mouth until it happens, but instead of being mortified like Akaashi, Bokuto growls in response and yanks Akaashi’s hips closer until their middles are flush. The new closeness makes Akaashi’s insides smolder. With a guttural sound, he pulls on Bokuto’s hair to tighten the link between their lips.

Bokuto grasps Akaashi’s hips and slowly begin to drag his hands upwards, but before Akaashi can register what is about to happen, it’s too late. As Bokuto’s fingers feather over the curve of his waist, Akaashi tears away from the kiss and lets out the loudest, most embarrassing giggle he has ever heard. His hand flies to his mouth, but it is too late to stop it. The damage is done.

Hands dropping, Bokuto stares at Akaashi, his kiss-swollen mouth drooping open stupidly before he points at Akaashi and bursts into gales of laughter. “Oh my _god_ , I can’t believe that just happened!”

By now, Bokuto is clutching his stomach, bent over from the effort to breathe between spurts of amusement. Tears are pouring from his eyes, and Akaashi is fairly certain at that very moment, he would very much like to be struck by lightning. “Bokuto-san, please,” he entreats, but he doubts his captain can hear him.

Finally, Bokuto either is no longer amused or no longer has the lung capacity to support so much laughter, but the room is quiet again. Akaashi can’t bear to look up as he protectively clutches his sides. “This is so embarrassing,” Akaashi says, though he fails to see where this point isn’t obvious. However, Bokuto being . . . well, _Bokuto_ , he can’t make any assumptions.

“Are you kidding?” Bokuto almost shouts. “This is the best day of my life. Not only did I get to kiss the best looking guy in Fukurodani Academy, I found out he’s actually _ticklish_.”

Starting at the comment, Akaashi tries to let his brain process what Bokuto said. Bokuto is attracted to him? This idea is bizarre to him. Though he is vaguely aware that he is above average in the looks department, his cool demeanor and overly-sharp tongue make Akaashi feel like a less than desirable person. The concept of Bokuto knowing Akaashi enough to be aware of it and still consider kissing him some sort of prize makes his legs feel watery beneath him.

Bokuto is in front of him and lifts his chin. “Hey,” he says in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “It’s cute. Don’t be embarrassed.” The brief moment of sanity passing, he flings his arms wide and declares, “I’m ticklish. You can tickle me until I pee myself. I don’t even care. I just love laughing.”

“Please don’t, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, his voice housing much more strength this time. “My mother would never let you come over again.”

Wagging his brows, Bokuto gives him a Cheshire cat smile. “But you wouldn’t say no, right? Because I’m not just a volleyball ace. I’m the Kissing Ace!”

Akaashi chuckles. “That sentence doesn’t mean what you think it means, but no, I wouldn’t kick you out.”

Bokuto punches the air, and Akaashi breathes a little easier. Maybe it’s good that someone knows. At least then, he can be a little less uptight about guarding his ticklishness from his teammates, who can and will relentlessly torment him about it. He doesn’t think Bokuto will, though, and it’s a little secret they can share. That, and the kissing.

At that last thought, Akaashi can’t help but sigh to himself. He has a feeling that this isn’t the last time he’ll be kissing Bokuto Koutarou. Or even the last time this night.

An hour and several long, languorous kisses later, Akaashi is draped over Bokuto on his bed, chasing figure-eights on the latter’s biceps with his fingertip. Bokuto is half asleep, and Akaashi makes a mental note to text Bokuto’s mom later to let her know that her son will probably stay the night.

Lazy golden eyes meet his, and Akaashi can’t help but feel warm all over. He likes Bokuto’s kissing, and he is relatively certain that he likes Bokuto in general. That is nothing, however, to the dizzying idea that Bokuto might actually like him back in the same way.

But there is one matter that he won’t rest until it is settled.

“Bokuto-san?”

“Yeah, Akaashi?”

“Just so you know, if you tell a soul about me being ticklish, they’ll never find the body.”

When Bokuto gulps, Akaashi gives a throaty laugh, but he leaves the meaning of that up to Bokuto’s now-rocketing imagination.

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the dumbest thing I've ever written. If you read all of this, I am so, so sorry. But at least there was Thighchi? I need help.


End file.
